The phone rang. I remember thinking something was already wrong. Because of our time difference, Mom never called me in the evenings unless there was an emergency. In a desperate tone, she told me that my father had suddenly been hospitalized.
It was pancreatic cancer. Growing undiagnosed it had already entered Stage 4 and was considered extremely aggressive. With a heavy heart, I quit my job in Seoul and 36 hours later found myself on a flight bound home to America.
I was shocked and confused to see my father at the hospital in this unexpected weakened state. Trying to make sense of the situation, I immediately began making a record. The need to preserve his remaining life was overwhelming and became my way of resisting the inevitable. Each click felt like I could stop time, no matter how painful, if only for a moment. As Dad recounted his memories and regrets, it also granted me a deepened emotional space to bond both with him and my mother. Their hearts were tied together, always and forever. After his passing, a sense of hopelessness took hold of her, making it difficult to speak her feelings. Seeking a way to facilitate delicate but necessary conversations, I showed her my images and listened to her thoughts. Writing them down as we looked over the photographs started a journey of reflection for both of us.
The resulting document is one of vision and voice. Bound together through a personal process of grief, I hope they’ve created an emotional map, one that reveals our connectedness to each other while also furthering an understanding for all those navigating the loss of a loved one.
It was pancreatic cancer. Growing undiagnosed it had already entered Stage 4 and was considered extremely aggressive. With a heavy heart, I quit my job in Seoul and 36 hours later found myself on a flight bound home to America.
I was shocked and confused to see my father at the hospital in this unexpected weakened state. Trying to make sense of the situation, I immediately began making a record. The need to preserve his remaining life was overwhelming and became my way of resisting the inevitable. Each click felt like I could stop time, no matter how painful, if only for a moment. As Dad recounted his memories and regrets, it also granted me a deepened emotional space to bond both with him and my mother. Their hearts were tied together, always and forever. After his passing, a sense of hopelessness took hold of her, making it difficult to speak her feelings. Seeking a way to facilitate delicate but necessary conversations, I showed her my images and listened to her thoughts. Writing them down as we looked over the photographs started a journey of reflection for both of us.
The resulting document is one of vision and voice. Bound together through a personal process of grief, I hope they’ve created an emotional map, one that reveals our connectedness to each other while also furthering an understanding for all those navigating the loss of a loved one.
"Sometimes I feel like I am in a bad dream."
"Everything is aimless and hopeless. I have lost my direction and I don’t know where to go."
"Your dad was suddenly lying there in a hospital room. The man I loved."
"I just wanted to share his pain. If I could take all of his pain, I would."
"He accepted he was dying and often asked me to read the bible to him. He never did before."
"Gently touching his skin, I could feel his lumps. His body was changing so we had to change, too."
"Even though he was sick, he wanted to be a man and do things on his own."
"He was a very good man and he tried his best to give me a good life. He always listened to me."
“Taking care of him had been a full-time job but if I had one more chance, I’d do it all over again."
"Every night I prayed to cure his disease, to cure his cancer. I was hoping for a miracle."
"We were always together. I was always beside him."
"He only made it 3 weeks. It was hard to accept that he had died that fast."
"I’m trying to find hope but inside still echoes emptiness. I want a way out of my emptiness.”